Let’s see… what’s important to tell about myself?
Well, I grew up in Beckley, West Virginia–a small, picture-postcard town tucked in the beautiful Appalachian Mountains.

Beckley was a town of wonderful porches—like this one. I spent many memorable hours on this small porch outside my childhood home—sometimes alone, often with family, sometimes with friends.

Just before this picture was taken, my Amanda like, non-friend friend and I were sitting on the porch. Fussing, as usual. Joanne from across the street came over with her new Brownie camera. We posed for a picture, went back to the porch, then continued our argument. I don’t remember about what.

Hmmmm… What else is important to tell?

I can’t decide. So, instead of telling, I’ll share some of the pictures in my scrapbook. They give a glimmer of my childhood—the times I‘ve lived in, some of the things I’ve done, the people who surrounded me.

I don’t know what the pictures will say to you, but in their way they tell how many of my stories were born.

But no matter where I am or how much I change, I’ll always find a porch to sit on—that special place for me!

I have always, ALWAYS loved playing the piano (just like Ernestine). Can you see where I almost burst out of my recital dress (also just like Ernestine)? And right there on the stage in front of EVERYbody!

My friends and I didn’t have computers, video games, or even TV. But there was always lots for us to do.

During summers there was sleep-away camp. I went to one in West Virginia (just like Ernestine), and one in Pennsylvania (just like Amanda).

Our community was our mothers, fathers, grandfathers, and grandmothers; our aunts, uncles, friends, and neighbors.

They were  teachers, housekeepers, homemakers; cooks, and social workers. They were community workers and club members.
 
They were doctors, coal miners, Pullman porters, and lawyers, (like Mr. Morris in McKendree); preachers, business owners, waiters, and musicians.

Together, they created the village in which all of us were nurtured and grew.

The people in this picture were having a celebration. Not for a birthday or an anniversary, or anything like that. They were celebrating their first meal in a West Virginia restaurant that was not segregated. In the years before this picture was taken, each of these persons had boycotted the local restaurants—and the movie theaters. They had refused to support any establishment that did not treat black customers equally to white ones.

Most of these pictures were taken during the 1940s and 1950s—over half a century ago!
I share them to honor the people they show just as those individuals honored themselves and their dreams. Along with their Sisters and Brothers across America, they achieved in spite of the evils of segregation they had to fight their entire lives.

It is because of all of them that all of us—my generation and now yours—have many of the opportunities that we do…